From the top of a hill
by Angleterre97
Summary: Church bells rang. The sun began to set. Tears fell. He was gone. My first attempt at anything tragic and heart wretching. Short One-shot. R&R Plz.


Cars of various makes, models and colors lined the street that ran next to the cemetery. Though the grass was green and the sun glowing as it crept towards the west, the atmosphere was stark and gray. Church bells rang in the distance as a small mob of people gathered around the single headstone that sat on the to of the large hill looking out over the other markers, underneath a grand oak tree.

The funeral had passed liked any other with mourning and remembrance and plenty of tears. The grave itself had already been dug and recovered and as the newly engraved stone settled into its eternal place a surreal numbness took its grip on the surroundings.

The cross-shaped head stone read as following:

_Gilbert Beilschmidt_

_Leader to all_

_Lover to many_

_Friend and brother for life_

_Prussian forever_

_Awesome_

The vibrant blue of Cornflowers graced the ground, accompanied by different arrays of Lilies, Roses, and Carnations to name a few.

Feliciano hung onto Ludwig's arm as he cried into the others strong shoulder.

Lovino tentatively placed an arm around Antonio's shoulders as he sat on the ground with his head in his hands.

Roderich held Elizaveta left had as her favorite frying pan hung limply in her right. Both letting small rivulets stream down their faces.

Francis sat across from his Spanish friend on the other side of the freshly turned up dirt. Arthur held him tightly in his arms and rocked him slowly as the French man's body was wracked with horrible sobs.

After many long minuets of stifling silence Ludwig finally took a step forward, gently releasing the Italian's grip. His face was stricken with solemn blankness as he kneeled down and hung something off of the stone maker. As he withdrew and stood again, a glint of black reflected off of the dangling Iron-Cross. The German bowed his head as his own tears finally pelted the grass below the his feet. Memories flashed through all of their minds with the glare from the military emblem

'Growing up with him as an older brother, and bailing him out of everything as we grew.'

The Austrian squeezed his companions hand as the shared a similar thought. 'Always around, always causing trouble and being obnoxious. Always making others laugh.'

Antonio and Francis exchanged a misty-eyed glance. The three of them were always together causing mischief or sharing their own secrets they would never tell another soul. 'He's Gilbert, what more could there be to say, he was awesome...'

That word would linger in all of their minds for a long time, and never again would it ever hold the same meaning. As much as everyone contradicted and told him otherwise...

"Gilbert Beilschmitd was awesome." Arthur breathed out, finally breaking the silence. Lovino snorted, but nodded his head in agreement.

"Yeah he was...stupid bastard." He meant it with all the care in the world. Elizaveta stared down at her frying pan, then back up at the pianist by her side.

"I've hit him so many times I-I..." She began to shake slightly. Roderich pulled her in closer.

"I don't think he would have had it any other way." He said honestly, in an attempt to calm her.

Never again would any of them see his shining grin or piercing red eyes, so unique to him, so Gilbert. Never aging would the signature sound of his irritating laugh grace their ears. They would all miss that sound...

With final words the sun began to set beyond the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with the multicolor sweep of twilight. All members of the party were standing now. Almost every one. One would never stand beside them again.

Good-byes were said. Tears continued to fall. Their lives had been broken. Ones life taken far to soon. The cruel fact lingered with all of them. He was gone and they would have to just keep living.

As they descended the hill they all turned their heads back to the hill, cloaked in shadow from the sunset directly behind it. A grave to look out upon all the others, as an awesome grave would.

Rustling in the oak above gave way to a nest of small yellow birds chirping with the last rays of light. And despite it all, they smiled.

Life comes and goes. But memories last a life time.


End file.
